


It Thrives in Low Light

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Episode Related, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gifts, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hurt, Letters, Love, Presents, Spoilers, light - Freeform, olicity - Freeform, the fern, the olicity fern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 19:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2593949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS for two specific scenes in the Arrow Facebook Exclusive promo "Dangerous Road."</p>
<p>Oliver had never wanted to find out about Felicity and Ray. Not like this. Back at the foundry, Oliver finds himself alone, and he lets his emotions go. In the process, he comes to an important realization about his relationship with Felicity, which he shares with her in a Christmas present. This is a story about Oliver, Felicity, and their fern. More than that, it's a story about light and hope: a story about two people who make each other better</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Thrives in Low Light

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that one post going around Tumblr that mentions the symbolism of the fern in relation to Olicity, and I felt a desperate need to write a story about it.

**It Thrives in Low Light**

 

Oliver had never wanted to find out. Not like this.

 

He’d needed Felicity's help with a something: a stupid computer program maybe, he can't really remember anymore. She wasn’t answering her phone, so he'd gone to the one place he thought he’d be most likely to find her – the one place he should have known not to visit: her office.

 

He got there just in time to see her kiss Ray Palmer.

 

* * *

 

Oliver leaves the building, climbs on his motorcycle, and drives, not sure where he’s going. Eventually he finds himself at the foundry, unaware of how he even got there.

 

As soon as he gets downstairs he realizes that this was a mistake, because everything in here reminds him of her. Against his will, his mind replays the kiss, and he feels the pain as though it’s fresh. As he paces the room aimlessly, the ache in his chest begins to fade, only to be replaced by anger. He stops at a table and slams his hands down onto it, hard, causing all the delicate instruments on it to tinkle and shake precariously. As he stands there, hands firmly planted, panting, his heart hammering in his chest, he realizes that anger isn’t the only thing he feels.

 

Jealousy, green as the hood he wears, courses through him.

 

He’s barely aware of doing it. His hands seem to act of their own accord. The random assortment of items on the table flies off across the room, crashing haphazardly to the floor. The sounds of shattering glass, scattered papers, and loud crashes echo in the emptiness.

 

As he stands there listening to the dying echoes, his strained breathing, and the quick beating of his heart, his eyes settle on something else in the room that is green. And when his eyes meet it, he feels his anger deflate as quickly as it came.

 

It’s the fern. The fern Felicity bought to spruce up the place; to make it less of a cave and more of a home. He doesn’t live here anymore, but the fern – _their fern_ – is still here.

 

What’s more, Felicity was right. The fern really _has_ thrived in the low light of the foundry basement.

 

Oliver walks toward it and touches it gently, caressing the soft, bright green leaves that Felicity has so tenderly cared for.

 

As he strokes the fern's curled leaves, he marvels over just how much it’s grown in the few months it has been here.

 

“It thrives in low light.”

 

Oliver says the words out loud, not caring that there’s no one here to answer him.

 

The word “light” jogs his brain, and a memory jumps out in his mind: a memory of another conversation he had in this same room with a different blonde.

 

_You deserve someone better. Someone who can harness that light that’s still inside of you._

 

Oliver lets the leaves of the fern fall and takes a step back. He hears Felicity’s voice in his head once more.

 

_It thrives in low light._

 

It’s there, standing in a mess of broken beakers and strewn paper, staring at the fern, that Oliver finds himself doing something he didn’t think he could do anymore.

 

He smiles.

 

_Felicity_ is his light. She always has been. And what’s more, she brings out Oliver’s own light in a way that no on else can; that no one else ever really could.

 

The fern thrives in low light. It grows stronger than ever even now, when Oliver’s afraid he’ll never feel the light again.

 

_It thrives in low light._

And the thought gives him _hope._

Hope for him.

 

Hope for _them_.

 

Hope that maybe they can still thrive, too.

 

* * *

 

It was Thea’s idea to throw a Christmas Eve party at their apartment. She’d seemed so excited about it that Oliver hadn't had the heart to stop her, even though he’s been feeling like most of their Christmases lately have been cursed. But Thea wanted a new start, and Oliver couldn't argue with that.

 

Thea invites her friends and Oliver invites his own. Diggle and Lyla come, bringing baby Sara with them. Roy comes, too, and Laurel brings Ted Grant.

 

Felicity brings Ray.

 

Oliver spends the evening quietly moving from person to person, passing on Christmas tidings and hugs and idle chat that doesn’t mean anything to him because he only has eyes for one person.

 

He waits until she’s alone, when Ray has wandered off to talk to Captain Lance about donating money to the SCPD.

 

He walks over to her and, without preamble, hands her a small box wrapped in a simple green bow.

 

“Merry Christmas.”

 

She looks at the box in surprise.

 

“I thought we agreed we weren’t doing presents this year, Oliver,” she chides, and Oliver can’t help but smile at the disapproval in her tone.

 

“Well, I lied,” he replies bluntly. “I’ve been known to do that.”

 

“Oliver-”

 

“Felicity.” He says her name quietly, in the same way he’s been known, on numerous occasions, to say “hey.” It’s the tone he reserves only for her, the one that’s quiet and gentle and tells her that she’s safe. “Just take it. Please.”

 

Felicity shakes her head. “I didn’t get you anything.”

 

“It’s all right.”

 

Felicity smiles. Oliver’s heart skips a beat, and he feels like he’s a teenage boy with a crush.

 

“You’re not going to silently curse me out behind my back, are you?”

 

Oliver laughs, and he finds to his surprise that it doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does.

 

“Never.”

 

“Okay. I guess I’ll have to keep it then. I mean, who can say no to presents? Even if it’s not a _Hanukkah_ present.”

 

Oliver shakes his head. “Well, today _is_ the last day of Hanukkah. We can consider it a Hanukkah present instead, if you want.”

 

She squints at him in disbelief. “Wait, you mean you actually know when Hanukkah is?”

 

He folds his arms over his chest. “Ya know, I _do_ know how to use the internet without your help, Felicity,” he responds with another laugh.

 

When Felicity smiles at him again, he would swear she shines brighter than the Christmas tree behind her.

 

“Merry Christmas, Oliver.”

 

Oliver smiles back at her.

 

“Merry Christmas, Felicity.”

 

He stands there stupidly, not sure what to do, but thankfully she doesn’t let him suffer long. She reaches out and pulls him into a hug, and he hugs her back, holding her as close as he dares and as tight as he can.

 

The room feels colder when she finally pulls away.

 

As Felicity moves to untie the bow, Oliver puts his hand over hers.

 

“Wait,” he says quietly, and she stops. Oliver looks down at his hand on top of hers and pulls it away quickly. “Open it tomorrow morning.”

 

Felicity looks at him in confusion, but then she nods.

 

“Okay.”

 

And then, as if on cue, Ray returns.

 

“So I was just talking to Captain Lance,” he says, putting an arm around her shoulder. “You’ll never guess what he said.”

 

Oliver walks away without another word.

 

He told her to open it tomorrow morning for a reason: there’s a card inside of it, too. He hopes she has the sense to realize he wants her to open it when she’s alone.

 

As Oliver heads over to John, Lyla, and little Sara, he thinks to himself that there’s only one thing he wants for Christmas this year, but he can’t tell anybody what it is.

 

He’ll just have to hold onto hope.

 

* * *

 

_Felicity,_

_One night, about a month ago, I did some research on ferns. I don’t know if you knew any of this when you picked it out, but I like to think you did (if I know you, you did your research)._

_There was one thing I read that stood out to me more than anything. I copied it word for word so you can see its full meaning:_

 

The tightly curled fronds of young ferns are deceptive, and it would be impossible to guess what a full grown fern would look like at this stage of development. Human kind is the same. Our consciousness must be awakened through life experience, learning, and awareness. Like the fern, we grow and flourish if we unfurl toward light or truth. The more we unfurl, the more the tendrils of our true nature begin to show….Two unfolding fern fronds symbolize the bonding of disparate kinds of people, with two opposite but complementary life forces, echoing the familiar Tao symbol, the Yin and Yang.

 

_Ferns grow slowly but steadily, always opening toward the light. In this way, they represent transformation, renewal…and a hope for the future._

_I’m not done growing, Felicity. I still have a ways to go. But I need the light to do it; I need **you**. I know you’re with Ray now, and I get it. I don’t expect you to wait for me forever. But I still need you in my life if I want to have any chance of being the man – of being **the hero** – you’ve always believed I can be._

_Every time I look at the fern, it gives me hope._

_I hope it can do the same for you._

_Love, Oliver_

* * *

 

Two days after Christmas, Oliver meets Diggle and Felicity in the foundry.

 

As he walks down the stairs, he spots her standing over the fern, wearing a new red dress and shiny white heels. She turns just as his feet hit the floor, and the lights at her back create a bright halo around her. But it’s the sparkle of light against her chest that makes him smile – a sparkle created by the light shining off the necklace he gave her.

 

The necklace is in the shape of a fern leaf, and he forged it himself from his own green arrowheads.

 

The only thing Oliver wanted for Christmas was to see her wear it.

 

Felicity smiles at him and nods, and Oliver smiles back.

 

And in the low light of the foundry, the two of them find hope.

 

**…the end…**

 

_“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”_

_~ Desmond Tutu_

 

**_My inspiration for Felicity's necklace:_ **

__

 

**Author's Note:**

> For this story, I decided to do my own research into fern symbolism and I found this site, which actually has the same information as the Tumblr post and a whole lot more: http://www.fernlifecenter.com/about-fern-life/why-the-fern/  
> This story was partially inspired by the information I found there.
> 
> While I was looking for fern symbolism, I also stumbled across the image above, which inspired the necklace in the story: http://www.mountainjade.co.nz/necklaces/nz-traditional-green-jade-fern-necklace-gf2011-f129/
> 
> The shape reminded me a bit of an arrowhead, and I pictured Oliver giving her something like this but made out of his own arrowheads instead of jade. The fern symbolism and the idea for the necklace quickly fused into one cohesive story.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
